The life you Choose
by taintedtruffle
Summary: They say a butterfly flapping its wings in china can cause a hurricane on the other side of the word, that fate is fickle and lifes a game of chance. Well reveiwers, the butterfly's in your hands now, can you give Sweeney the happy end he so much deserves
1. No place like london

I thought id try something a little different

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I thought id try something a little different. I'll write the story than at the end I'll leave an option for you to decide what a character dose. It will start off much as the movie dose but may change quicly depending on your responses. Sound fun? The current decision question is at the end of chapter 4 and ends on the last day of july, so hurry!!

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Sweeney stood on the bough of the "bountiful", the ship he had resided upon for little over a month. Antony, a young sailor with an eternally optimistic attitude stood beside him. "I have sailed the world, beheld it's wonders, from the Dardanelle to the mountains of Peru" He looked out at the dreary, gray toned streets, eyes wide with awe. Sweeney glared at the boy 'why dose he look so bloody amazed?' he wondered. "But there's no place like lundon!!" The boy finished with a contented look.

"No, there's no place like Lundon." Sweeney admitted, that much the boy was right on.

"Mister Todd?" The boy said, looking at the older man. He rarely spoke and was curios what else he might have to say.

Sweeney didn't bother to look at the boy, instead his gazed was fixed outwards at the approaching city, eyes as darkly shadowed as his mind. "You are young." He said sadly, "Life has been kind to you. You will learn." Yes he would learn, there was no way to stay innocent and naive in this dreadful town. He moved forwards to the front of the ship, glaring at the city before he began sharing a bit of his views with the boy.

"There's a hole in the world like a great black pit and the vermin of the world inhabit it and its morals aren't worth wot a pig could spit and it goes by the name of Lundon." Antony moved forward, somehow interested in his small speech. "At the top of the hole sit a privlaged few, making mock of the vermin in the lower zoo, turning beauty into filth and greed." His head didn't turn but his eyes finally looked back at the boy. "I, too, have sailed the world and seen its wonders."

His eyes where once again string at the buildings, watching as they seemed to grow with every second. "For the cruelty of men is as wondrous as Peru, but there's no place like Lundon." He scowled.

A few minutes later the ship met dock and Sweeney hurried forward, first one off the ship. Antony followed closely behind and Sweeney couldn't help but think him like a puppy. "Every thing all right Mista Todd?" He questioned, looking questioningly at him.

Sweeny swallowed, looking around. Last time he was at London's docks he had been shackled hand and foot and behind loaded onto a ship bound for Australia. Some where along here Lucy had stood, waving and crying. She hadn't brought the baby, had left her with there landlady thinking all the noise would frighten her.

It took him a moment to realize Antony had spoke and another moment still to gather a response. "I beg your indulgence Antony. My mind is far from easy." He managed, eyes still looking out at the down as dawn was rising. "In these once familiar streets I feel shadows everywhere."

Antony would have pointed out that of course there where shadows, everything has to cast a shadow, its only natural, but deciding he had misunderstood he repeated Sweeney's words. "Shadows?"

"Gohast." Todd cleared up, reminded once again what a simpleton this boy was. 'remember' he thought to himself 'small words when talking to the lad' maybe if he could expkain a bit the boy would understand. "there was a barber and his wife and she was beautiful" Images of his blond wife flitted through his mind. "A foolish barber and his wife." As he spoke he could see her, last time he'd seen her a free man they where out shopping. It was spring and almost every stand in the square was selling flowers.

"She was his reason and his life, and she was beautiful" Antony blinked at the man, wondering why he was being told this story. Did it have anything to do with the ghost? Maybe it was a ghost story? He tuned back in, realizing the other man was still talking.

"There was another man who saw that she was beautiful." Sweeney continued, remembering how they had stopped in the square and he had shown his daughter a flower. His voice became heavy with disgust as he continued the little tale. "A pious vulture of the law, who with a gesture of his claw, removed the barber from his plate." One of his hands rose to the back of his head where the policeman had hit him before dragging him away. "Than there was nothing but to wait." He remembered how even as he was being dragged away the judge had stepped forward to console his saddened wife. "And she would fall, so soft, so young, so lost an oh, so beautiful." His voice cracked with emotion as he finished.

Antony still didn't know what the purpose of the story was and was wondering why there was a vulture in the middle of the story. Had it been a story where the characters where animals like the Flopsey Rabbits? He had to say something though or the older man would think he was ignoring him. "And the lady, sir, did she succumb." In his mind he couldn't help but picture a pretty bunny in a dress smiling at a vulture in a judges wig.

"Oh that was many years ago." Sweeney said quietly. That thought had plagued his mind as well. "I doubt if anyone would know." He looked back at the boy. "I'd like to thank you Antony. If you hadn't spotted me I'd be lost on the ocean still." Or dead. He finished in his head.

The boy ignored the thanks, no one would have spotted him and not had him brought aboard. "Will I see you again?" He asked.

"You might find me again." Sweeney said. "Around Fleet Street, I wouldn't wonder."

Sweeney parted without another word to the boy, mumbling to him self about the filth of the world. His place was slow but picked up speed the closer he got to his destination until finally he saw it. A building with two stories, a pie shop down below and a large glass window taking up almost the entire right side of the roof on the second floor. His old home. His heart ached at the thought.

He hesitated, out side the building. Inside the pie shop he saw someone moving about. His stomach rumbled at the thought of food. Upstairs the window was dingey and dark. But, if his wife was there it might be dark 'cause she was still sleeping. It was quiet early and she had always been fond of sleeping in.


	2. The baker and the burgurler

Sweeney turned and headed for the steps leading up to his house

Sweeney turned and headed for the steps leading up to his house. He placed a hand on the rickety bleached wood railing. It only made sense to head up. He could always come back down for food later. Plus, he smiled at the thought, if his Lucy was up there he might be able to have a home cooked meal.

He quickly made his way up the steps and flung the door open. His face instantly fell with disappointment. The room was covered in at least an inch of dust. The wallpaper was faded and peeling. He was inexplicably drawn to the cradle; it was covered in a sheet. He lifted it to find Johanna's doll. That meant they had left when Joanna was still just a little thing, right?

Where would they have gone? Sweeney backed against the was, sliding slowly down it to the ground with a thud. Lucy's parents where dead, he knew that. Did she have any other relatives? He wracked his brain, staring into the aged face of the doll still clutched in his hand but he couldn't seem to think. Misery filled his veins. How would he find them, if he even could? Would it be possible to track them down with out revealing his identity?

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Mrs. Lovett stopped what she was doing to look up at the ceiling. What was that? She could swear she'd heard something upstairs in the old apartment. Ah! There it was, a sort of scuffling about. Vaguely she wondered if another cat had found its way in. Curious she picked up her largest knife, what ever was up there would no doubt make for a delicious pie.

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Sweeny was searching the room for any hint of where they could have gone. He had emptied all the dresser draws on to the floor and was currently sifting through the muddled array of clothes at the bottom of the closet when he heard the bell above the door jingle. He spun quickly, hoping to see a gold haired goddess an instead saw a red headed witch, glaring at him, knife in hand.

"Who are you?" She barked. "Wot are you doin' in 'ere diggin' through the Barker's thins?" She stepped forward and he backed slightly. He quickly found his feet, not taking his eyes off the wild haired woman.

"I'm Sweeney, Ben's uhh..brother." He lied quickly, hoping she would by it.

"Like 'ell you are!" She retorted, taking another step closer. "Mr. B didna' 'ave any siblins ya liyin' fool!"

His mouth opened and closed as he tried to come up with a witty response. She used this time to step even closer, repeating her previous inquiry of who he was. Sweeney glared. This woman was too bold for her own good! Didn't she know what kind of trouble she could get her self in to confronting a strange man this way?

With that thought he quickly thought of a way to escape this predicament. He could easily over power this petite lady, knife of not, and make his way from the room.

The woman hesitated at the change in his demeanor and took half a step backwards. This was the sign he need. He rushed forward, confidante the woman would simply move out of his way if he made any direct movement.

She surprised him, slamming the door shut and stationing her self in front of the door. "I'll not be letting' you outta 'ere wit mista Barkers thins." She motioned with the knife to the picture frame and doll clutched in his hands.

He glared at the assertive woman. "Out of my way!" He yelled. She stood her ground glaring harder at him. He returned the look. How dare this poodle haired woman tell him what to do with his own stuff! He sat the doll down. He didn't need it.

"The picture frame too if you will." Her tone made it obvious this wasn't just a light inquiry.

His eyes flashed red. "NO!" He charged forward, the element of surprise allowing him enough time to catch the slender wrist of the hand holding the knife and pin it high above her head. She was looking up at him; eyes wide like a doe, breathing hard. He had certainly frightened her for she didn't say a word as he held her there.

His hand that had previously held the photo slipped in into his pocket, reaching up and taking the knife from her chalk white hand. He let go of her with out another word but she didn't move and they stood there, staring at one another for another quarter of a minute before he turned on his heals, stomping from the room.

He was halfway down the steps when he was stopped by a call.

"Ben?" The maroon haired woman was standing at the top of the steps. "Benjamin Barker? Is that you?"

He looked up at her, glaring. "Who are you?" He hissed.

"Nellie. I'm Eleanor Lovett, Sir." He raised his eye brows at this, looking up at her. She stood there, biting her bottom lip as her hands played with her skirt. This was little Nellie who had lived down stairs? The one who was always blushing and giggling with Lucy? The wife of that large baboon Albert? He walked back up the steps until there eyes met. Her hair was different. He had never seen it up before. Her face was covered in fine lines and dark circles had formed under her eyes.

"You don't look yourself." He commented. She smiled and he heard it in the small giggle that escaped. It was her.

"You do not look the same either Mista B. Look at cher hair!" She was staring at him with an affection he hadn't seen in many years. Her eyes took in everything. The paleness of his skin, his sunken, haunted eyes, the ragged jacket he was wearing. "Come one Mista B." She caught his shoulder and turned him, leading him down the steps. "Lets get you somefin t' eat."

"No." He said, shrugging her hand off his shoulder. "Not Barker. That man is dead. Its Todd now, Sweeney Todd." She smiled wanly at him.

"Of course Mista Todd. Now lets get some food in you."

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She led him to her parlor and told him to sit. Sweeny looked around from his place on the plush blue couch. The walls where covered in a faded rose wallpaper. There was a piano in one corner, a carriage holding a few dolls under the window, knick knacks of owls and vases of dried baby's breath where set randomly about the room.

She came back in handing him a pie on a dingy china plate. "'ere you are dearie. 'Fraid it's not th' bes' food around but its all I've got." She sighed, sitting down in the chair adjacent to him as he took a bite. He grimaced at the taste wondering just how long the pie had sat.

"Is it that bad?" She inquired at the look on his face. "Guess I've gotten used to the taste of me own pies but no one else's been in th' shop in weeks."

He wasn't surprised. If this was what she feed her costumers it was a wonder she still owned the shop at all!

"Mind you I can hardly blame them." She continued, now rustling about through a cabinet. "These are probably the worst pies in London." She paused looking up. He wondered briefly if she was waiting for him to protest the point. When he didn't she continued as she pored something from a bottle into a mug of questionable cleanliness.

"No wonder with the price of meat wot it is, when you get it. Men'd think it was a treat finding poor animals wot are dying in the street."

"Mrs. Lovett!" He said loudly as he pushed his pie away. He really didn't want to know what was in it or where she found it.

She frowned. She had been rambling, she knew that but she couldn't help it. She knew sooner or later he'd ask about-

"What happened to them?" His voice was low. She sat next to him. That was the question she'd been trying to avoid.

She sighed, the story would have to come out sooner or later. "Turpin, the judge that 'ad you sent away was in love with your Lucy." She began, eyes looking not at him, instead down at her twiddling fingers. "Wanted her like mad. Evrey day head send her a flower. They piled up in the room the did, covered the whole top of the trunk till finally I took 'em all and stuffed 'em in the trash." She paused, knowing she was again straying from the topic. "She wouldn't leave her room. Sat up there and sobbed by the hour. Poor fool."

Sweeneys eyes flashed at the slight insult to him wife but he didn't say anything.

"So she was left with no money and a year old kid. Coulda married Turpin, had the moon on a string but did she use her head, oh no, god forbid." She shook her head. "Poor fool. So late one night Beadle calls on her all polite, tell her the judge's all contrite." She looked up at Sweeney. He was looking not at her but instead staring out as though to picture the words in his head. "It was well past midnight but he insisted she come to his house that night so she left little Johanna with me and they took off. When she goes there but they're having this ball all in mask and there's no one there she knows so she starts to drink and gets her self nice and tipsy. Than when she's off guard Turpin takes her, right in the middle o' the room. Everyone figured she had to be daft so all of them stood there and laughed, you see. Poor soul, poor thing."

"Nooo!!" Sweeney cried out, clenching his eyes against the thoughts. No, not his Lucy! "Would no one have mercy on her?"

She didn't bother to say anything, merely shook her head no. Sweeney looked about to cry. "Where's Lucy? Where's my wife?"

Nellie hesitated. What should she say? Should she tell him she was dead, 'cause in all honesty any part that used to be Lucy was gone or should she tell him the truth that she was a mindless beggar wondering the streets?


	3. Arsnic from the apothicary

"Theres something I need to show you

"Theres something I need to show you." She said softly, she stood up. He followed her through the house and out the door. She locked it soundly behind her, catching Sweeney by the arm and leading him quickly through the London streets. After a few minutes she spoke in a low voice. "I tried to stop her, I did." She said softly, looking sideways at him.

He wanted to ask what she was talking about but couldn't seem to get the words out. He settled for giving her a stern but puzzled look.

"She wouldn't listen to me." She wasn't looking at him, instead her eyes where jumping from face to face of each Londoner they passed. "There." She whispered almost to her self. She let go of him, rushing forward to a pair of people.

Sweeney was surprised to see one of them was the sailor. They moved close enough he could catch their conversation. "Ma'am, could you tell me who's house this is?" Antony was asking. The other person, a dirty old beggar in tatty clothes was looking down at the ground.

"That's the great judge Turpin's house, that is."

Sweeney's eyes narrowed at hearing that. This is where the man who sent him away and harmed his wife lived? He felt anger fill him but wasn't upset by this as he would be in past. A growl escaped his lips and he stepped towards the house. Mrs. Lovett quickly caught him and pulled him back, still staring at the two in front of them. He followed her gaze, the sailor was speaking again.

"And the young lady that resides there?" Antony had asked, eyes fixed on the window above.

"Oh, that's Johanna, his pretty little ward." The beggar whispered to the sailor and Sweeney eyes widened.

Johanna was living at Turpin's house?! That must mean his Lucy had married him, wait-no. the woman had said, "ward" that means his Lucy wasn't there. Turpin was caring for his daughter?! Why? Where was Lucy?

He looked at the baker. She met his eyes, seaming to read each question written in them. She took his and and pulled them forward. "Lucy?" She said softly to the beggar. "There's some one 'ere to see you."

Sweeney frowned. Had she just called her lucy?

The ragged woman turned and caught sight of Mrs. Lovett. "Devil woman!" she shrieked. "Go away! Back! I'll not follow you int' hell I wont!!" and with that she took off running.

"Chase 'er!" Mrs. Lovett hissed. "That's your Lucy, you want 'er, go get 'er!"

Sweeny couldn't believe it. That filthy urchin was lucy? Still, in all his disbelief he found himself running after the woman. After a couple moments he caught her by the arm and spun her to face him.

Oh god it was her!

Sweeney's jaw dropped in shock at the change in his wife. Her once beautiful hair hung in filth twist that almost resembled dread locks. There was some type of rash around her mouth. Her blue eyes where dulled and had a crazed look in them.

"No." Sweeney shook his head. "No. Lucy. Oh Lucy." He pulled her to him. "What's happened to you my love?"

She squirmed from his grasp. "'Ow do you know me sir." She asked, voice rising and falling in a sing song manner.

"Its me Lucy, it's Ben."

"I don't know you sir." She smirked at him, hands moving to his chest. "'ow ever for a pret'y penny you could know me all you'd like."

He took a step back. "Don't talk like that Lucy!" He whispered, shocked.

"Wouldn't you like to push me parsley?" She hissed grabbing again at him. Sweeney stood, petrified with shock at his wife's behavior as her hand slid down his stomach to rest on his crotch. "Looks to me, dear, like you got plenty there to push." She grabbed him roughly and he jerked away from her.

"Lucy!" He gasped. "Come to your senses! How could you act like that in public! Oh Lucy." His voice softened. "You just need some time at home, that's it isn't it love, you'll remember me, I know you will." He caught her filthy hand in his and started pulling her back in the direction of the pie shop.

"And wot'll you be payin' me for this lil 'ouse call."

He stopped walking and turned pulling her close to him. "Stop acting like this and come to your senses, NOW!" He felt guilty instantly. He had never yelled at her once before, never.

She giggled madly, taking his distractedness as an opportunity to slip from his grasp.

"No, no, no." She sung. "Cicadas bark as loud as they can, it's the quiet bees who 'ave the bite!"

He shook his head at this nonsense. " You're coming home, now!" He reached out, hand clamping like a vice grip around her wrist and began pulling the now resisting woman after him.

Lucy was screaming loudly, half of what she said not making any sense. People where staring and laughing. He glared at them. Next thing he knew a wave of pain rushed through his hand and he reflexively released her, pulling his hand to him. There was a jagged cut in his hand, going straight through from the back to the front.

Lucy was chuckling, a rusty kitchen knife in her hand. She tucked it back in her pocket before turning and running from him at full speed.

He just stood there. He couldn't follow her. She wanted nothing to do with him, she made that obvious. How could she act like that? His pure, innocent Lucy was now just another one of the crazed hussy wondering the streets of London?!

"Mista T?" He felt soft hands on his shoulder and instantly realized it was the baker. "I'm sorry. I thought it best I let you see for your self."

"Wot happened to her?" He asked, voice barley a whisper.

"She poisoned herself. Arsenic from the apothecary around the corner."

He turned, to face her now and she caught sight of his hand. "Oh! Mista T! Your 'urt!" She grabbed his hand and reached in to her pocket, pulling out a handkerchief.

"Never mind that." He snatched his hand away. "Lucy. Tell me what happened to Lucy."

"She took the poison, poor thing, but she never died. She lived but it left her weak in the head." They where walking now back towards her shop. "All she did for months was just lie there in bed, should've been in 'ospital wound up in bedlam instead."

He stopped walking, glaring daggers at the maroon haired lady. "Why would you put her in bedlam?!"

"T'wasnt me love, I swear it. Was me dear Albert but even 'e didna mean no harm by it. Lu woke up one day and started trashin' the place. She ran up the steps and we followed 'er. She pushed Albert and 'e fell backwards down your steps. Broke 'is leg 'e did. Bone stabbed clear through the flesh and we had t' call a doctah t' set it. When the doctah 'eard wot 'appened 'e 'ad 'er carted away."

"Where is albert?" He asked, seeming to notice for the first time the balloon of a man was not there.

"It never healed right. It got infected and turned t' gout." Nellie didn't say anything else. They both walked in silence, Mrs. Lovett taking a chance when they stopped to let a line of carriages pass to grab his injured hand and bandage it with the handkerchief.

Neither of them spoke until they where back inside the pie shop and much to Elenore's surprise it was Sweeney who broke the silance. "I'm sorry. It must have been very hard for you."

"S'not your fault love. Im sorry you 'ad to see 'er that way."

He nodded and they sat in silence for a few minutes. Mrs. Lovett stood after awhile, brunging over a bottle of rum and two mugs. "Want something t' drink Mista T?"

He nodded and she poured two cups. They sat there drinking them down slowly. "I'm going to kill him." Sweeney announced coolly.

"Who love?" Mrs. Lovett was lost in her own thought that revolved around moving to the sea with Sweeney.

"Turpin. I know he lives. Tonight I'll sneak over there with one of your kitchen knives and-"

"And wot? Your gonna 'op 'is fence, break int' the house and kill 'im with out no one seen your face than wot 'appens t' Johanna? I'm shure if anything was t' 'appen t' the Judge t' Beadle would get custody of 'er and I don't think I'd want 'im anywhere near 'er if I was you!"

He glared at her. One second and she had already ruined any plan he might have had. "Than wot do you suggest Misus Lovett?" He yelled, standing up and walking a few stps away from her. She stood as well but stayed at the table. "I let him go on livein' his happy life and try t' forget wot he did t' me? Wot he did t' my Lucy?!"

"I never said that Mista T." She frowned at him. "All I meant is we need a plan. We'll wait a few days, let it all play out, somethins bound to come up, some kind of opportunity will arise, I'm shure of it Mista T."

He advanced towards her. "And how do you know this?" He challenged, inches from her face.

She felt warmth spread to her cheeks at his closeness and could barley find words. "I-I just do." She managed to whisper.

"Humph." He turned away with a glare and began pacing the length of her dusty floor. He could do it. There had to be some way to attack the judge toninght and free Johanna. Or maby she was right, maby he should wait and see. The judge wasn't going anywhere, what more would a few days be?

He continued pacing, weighing each decision in his mind

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you decide! Should they wait and let things unfold themselves with time or should he launch an all out assault on the judges house, its all up to you! Today is saterday the 12th, you have until the 19th to decide!


	4. Silver is a Todds best friend

"Youv'e got to eat somethin'

"You've got to eat somethin'!" Mrs. Lovett said holding out the plate of scrambled eggs to the stubborn man. For three days the ex barber had done nothing but sit on the edge of the old bed, staring in to space. "Please Mista T! There's no way you can exact a revenge if you're wasting away."

Her argument fell on def ears. He had ignored her completely ever since she shot down his idea of a head on assault of the judges house. At least he'd decided to stay put.

She sighed, setting the plate on top of the chest by the door. "I 'ave 'alf a mind t' try t' stuff 'em down your throat." She mumbled as she walked towards him and sat down beside him. He didn't protest and she looked sideways at him.

"Don't worry luv, we'll think of somethin'." She whispered, lightly squeezing his arm. They sat there in silence for a few minutes until Mrs. Lovett jumped up suddenly, a bright look in her hazel eyes. "Mista T!!" The excitement in her voice caught his attention and for the first time in what seemed like forever he moved, looking at her with a curious expression.

"Look!" She was kneeling on the ground, tapping away at the floorboards, scuttling away like an excited crab. After a minute she must have found what she needed because she cried out in triumph and pulled up on of the floorboards. "Look Mista T!" She held up a silver box.

Sweeney didn't have to be told twice, he was already hurrying across the floor to kneel next to the grinning woman. "My-?" He didn't even finish his question. He couldn't beleve it. She had his razor?! Why would she have saved them all this time? Nothing else of his was saved? They would have been worth so much on the street!

"I said t' my self one day the poor blighter'll be back again and he'll need 'is razors." She opened the box and took one out, handing it to him gently. "So when they come for the girl I hid em for you Mista T."

"Why?" He flicked it open and gazed at his reflection in the blade. He seemed almost hypnotized as stared at his one thing from his past didn't age or decay. The one thing that was just as it was before, beautiful and waiting for him.

"Why?" Mrs. Lovett echoed. "Because I knew you'd be back Mista T, I just knew it! See, you ca be a barber again!"

Sweeney barely herd her, he was still caught up in the shine of silver in his grasp. "These are my friends." He mumbled to him self. He seemed to have forgotten the baker entirely; at least she thought so until he held it up, twirling it flourishly for her to see. "See how they glisten? See this on shine? How he smiles in the light?" She nodded, moving closer, She still wasn't sure if he was taking to her or just rhetorically.

"My faithful friend. Well I've come home to find you waiting, home and were together." He held it close to him and it was all she could do not to let her jaw drop. He was singing to his razor?!

"And well do wonders, wont we?" He folded one away, just as quickly pulling another from the case and opening it with a flick of his wrist. "You there my friend."

"I'm your friend too Mr. Todd." Mrs. Lovett whispered. "If you only knew Mr. Todd."

He ignored her completely, hypnotized by the gilded silver in his grasps. "Now, with a sigh, you grow warm in my hand. He smiled as his body heat sunk into the handle, making it seem almost to have a life of its own.

"Soon I'll unfold you." He whispered to the razor. "Soon you'll know splendors you never have dreamed."

"Splendors you never have dreamed all your days will be yours." She whispered, just as quietly, crouching behind him now.

He didn't even spare her a glance. "My luckey friend."

"I'm your friend!" She pleaded.

"Till now your shine…"

She decided to agree with him, maybe that tactic would work. "Don't they shine beautifully?"

"Was merely silver."

"Silvers good enough for me!"

"You'll soon drip rubies. You'll soon drip precious rubies." She smiled darkly as he said this, good, He under stood her intent and she didn't need to do any thing but show him his beautiful razors.

He turned and seemed to notice for the first time she was still there. She waited breathlessly for what hed say/ thank you? You're my friend too Mrs. L? I love you?

"Leave us!"

Her face fell and she hurried from the room not because he told her too but because she didn't want him to see the tears of disappointment that filled her hazel eyes.

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It was the next morning before she went up to the mans apartment again. It wasn't like he would eat anything she brought or care she wasn't around. She was mildly surprised to se the meal shed left there in her haste was gone and Sweeney had cleaned his shop.

"Here you are love." She handed him the special of the day. "Pie should be good, kitten found its way int' me bake house, woke me up wit it's yowllin'!"

He blinked at her than down at the pie. Bloody woman wondered why he never ate what she brought him this is why, right here!

"Anyways," she continued. "Wot we need t' do is drawl some attention to your shop. I'm heading int' the market t'day. There's a crock of a barber there, why don't you challenge him. I know you could best him sir." She smiled at him with confidence, patting his arm fondly. "Than everyone will want to come here and words bound t' travel."

Sweeney frowned. "Anything ... more direct?" That sounded like quite a round about way to go about it. Challenge some stranger and hope to draw in the judge by word of mouth.

"Well you could do in every other barber in London. I was joking Mr. T!" She exclaimed at the smile that instantly crossed his face. "I suppose we could go to the Judges house and see if he's hiring a butler or something. It is a large place I mean, it's worth a shot. Or we could see if you could get a job at the court, than all you'd have to do is get 'im alone with out anyone noticing." She looked at him, ready for what ever her Todd chose. "Which is it?"

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you chose!!

You have until the last day of july!! Sorry I know it was short this time '


	5. Demon butler of fleet street

"Wait

"Wait! Where are you going?!" Mrs Lovett hurried after the skunk haired man who was now hurrying out into the London streets. "Mr. T, wot are you doing?"

He didn't answer her and she barley managed to lock her pie shop door and catch sight of him turning a corner. One more second and she would have missed him. She rushed after him, trying to keep sight of him.

Finally, after almost a half an hour of zooming about London he stopped.

"Your lost arn't cha mista T?" Mrs. Lovett asked.

Sweeney glared although what the maroon haired baker had said was true, still, there was no way he would admit he had no idea where his prey lived. Mrs. Lovett smiled, catching his arm. He yanked it away, sending her a glare that would normally frighten a grown man. She just continued smiling up at him.

There was no way he would allow her to lead him, she knew that but maybe- "Ok, your not lost, your jus' takin' a stroll. Well, I think while you take your time t' think about thins I'm gonna walk t' Hyde Park. Why don't you come along?"

Sweeney raised his eyebrows. What was the woman up to? "Fine." He growled and they started to walk, each lost in his or her own thoughts.

Less than ten minutes later Mrs. Lovett's pace slowed as they approached a large house.

Sweeney looked up to see what kind of house had the silly woman so amused when he caught sight of the golden nameplate. Turpin.

"This is it." He growled, stepping forward.

"Really? You don't say!" Mrs. Lovett said, watching as Sweeney stepped forward, rushing up the gray steps two at a time.

"Hello?" A pigeon faced man poked his head out. It was a butler.

"I need to speak with Judge Turpin." Sweeney said, doing his best to sound calm and proper.

"Let me see if I can reach him." He said, turning away and shutting the door. They stood there in silence, waiting. Would it work? Would he hire him? What if he recognized him?

"Don't worry." Mrs. Lovett smiled, patting the mans hand. "You don' look like your old self luv."

He nodded stiffly. She seemed to be reading his thoughts. He was about to make some retort when the door cracked open and a gray haired head poked out. "Yes?" his drawling voice said than he caught sight of his guest. "You're the baker from Fleet street, right?"

Mrs. Lovett nodded, a small false smile spread across her lips. "Yes, judge Turpin. May I ask you something?"

"But of course, come in, let's go to my sitting room." He opened the door and she stepped inside, Sweeney followed, glaring daggers at the man.

Judge Turpin didn't seem to notice though, in fact he barely seemed to acknowledge Sweeney's presence at all, he was too busy talking to the lady.

"And what brings you to my humble home?" He asked, catching her gloved hand.

She resisted the urge to yank it away, instead smiling sweetly. "Tis a matter of business. You see-"

He cut her off with a wave of his hand. "Ah, only business, well, we can discuss this over tea, how dose that sound to you?"

"Um .. Shure. That sounds lovely. What do you think Sweeney?" It felt weird calling him by his first name but if her story was to work it was necessary. It would sound strange to be calling him "Mista T"

"Oh, hello." He looked up, noticing the dark man either for the first time or with a very convincing act of it. "Any who might this be? Certainly not a beau I hope."

"Gracious, no, no. Nothing like that. This is Sweeney Todd, my cousin arrived only a week ago from Birmingham."

"Ah. Nice to meet you Mister Todd." He turned his attention back to the woman. "Here, sit." He slid back a chair and she sat down in it. Sweeny set beside her and Turpin across the table.

Almost instantly a servant ran up with scones, crumpets, tea, sugar and cream.

"So how have you been? I heard your husband met an unfortunate end a little while ago." He asked, looking up at her as he poured his tea.

"T'was almost thirteen years ago and yes, poor Albert caught the gout, bless his soul." She bit in to a raspberry tart. Delicious! It had been many months since she had tasted any thing this good and it took all her restraint to continue taking small, lady like bites instead of gobbling the whole thing at once.

Sweeny glared, watching the conversation but touching nothing.

"How unfortunate." He laid his hand on hers, rubbing the back with his thumb. "It is such a sad though when we think of those we've lost, is it not."

"Yes, Most certainly is." They say in silence, Turpin finishing his tea and fixing another, Nellie eating two crumpets than pouring her "cousin" tea.

"So I assume the bakery has been difficult to manage."

She nodded, not saying anything.

"How do you do it all on your own?"

"I just do my best." She looked at him, "That's all you can do, right?"

"True, true."

"Which, umm.." She nibbled at the edge of a biscuit. "Brings me to why I'm here, you see, my cousin needs a job and I've hear 'round town you where hiring a butler."

"Well I'm sorry to say who ever told you that was sadly mistaken. I am though, hiring a maid." He tilted his head in her direction. "I would love to have you fill that position if you'd be willing."

"Ah." She smiled. "But that who would manage me shop?"

"Your cousin would probably be capable, would he not?"

"He can't cook."

"You could show him."

"I still wouldn't want to leave me shop alone."

The argument seemed to be at a stale mate until Turpin sighed. "Sorry that's all I've got now. If an opening was to show up I'd be sure to let you know."

"How about the court house? Surely you must-"

"Not that I know of, sorry." He stood and they did as well and the trio walked slowly towards the door. "Why don't I give you a few days to think about it, either way come back and tell me your answer, wont you?"

Mrs. Lovett nodded; her mind was already going in to gear. What if she said yes? Surely there'd be some way to get Turpin to the house. Sweeney could finish him off there.

She could tell him what an excellent barber her "cousin" was and have him come over for a shave or she could insist he come over for dinner some times. It seemed very possible this could, still, work to their advantage and even if it didn't it couldn't hurt their plans could it?

Maybe even- she thought, she could show up a few days than stop showing up, surly her new employer would be curios why and come to check.

"Well than, I'll see you back here in two days time with your answer." The man said, smiling, "Until than miss." He kissed her gloved hand as she stepped out the door. She faked a giggle and he waved as he closed the door.

Her and Sweeney quickly walked away and she brushed absently at the glove. She'd have to remember to wash it.

"well?"

She looked up at Sweeney. She didn't think he'd ever attempted to start a conversation. "yes."

"I'm sure you've got something brewin' away in that head of yours, lets hear it."

As they walked back to the pie shop she told him the pros she thought of, finishing with "Of course if you don't like the idea of me being around the enemy we could always come up with something better."

"Like wot?"

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Ok, should she take the job? What should happen? Lol, and sorry Sweeney didn't get the job to those of you who wanted to see the demon butler, maybe later?


	6. do you still want me to write?

Im so sorry to every one who was reading my stories my computer died and I finally got a new (well old hand me down one) and I can update again!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


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